


Collapsing Star

by jayiscoolbeanz



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Reveal Fic, Self-Hatred, Suicide Attempt, big brother Amenadiel, dan and lucifer are pals, i know michael isnt a character yet but i dont care, i like making lucifer suffer, i mean lots of angst before fluff but yknow, lucifer's mom is trying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 05:58:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15018158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayiscoolbeanz/pseuds/jayiscoolbeanz
Summary: Set during S2 E6- MonsterWhat if, after forcing everyone to leave Lux, instead of seeking out the sniper, Lucifer decides to find a more permanent death. Azrael's blade wiped Uriel out of existence, wouldn't it be fair if he faced the same fate as well?He's found on the brink of death, and luckily he's able to be saved. But how does everyone react to the Devil's suicide attempt? More importantly, how will Lucifer recover when he refuses to believe he's anything but a monster?





	Collapsing Star

He was a fool to believe he could be anything different, an idiot for thinking he would ever be anything more than a monster. The raw painful realization of what he was had hit him full force and has been driving him mad since he skewered his own brother, but it hadn’t quite sunk in all the way until he exposed his true face to Linda, and watched her mind fall to pieces and the horror shine in her eyes. It was almost like a final confirmation, a way to finally face the truth he’s been denying for many millennia. The humans have always known the truth: he was the embodiment of evil. And how dare he deny it when the evidence was clear as day, waving its hands in front of his face since the moment he rebelled. He never admitted the truth because facing the reality that he was the most horrible being in the universe….well, that was painful.

  
And he deserved the pain.

 

Everyone in Lux was gone; no one had dared to return since his earlier outburst.  He made it perfectly clear that there would be no grand celebrations for a while. An empty club meant he had all of the booze in the bar for himself, and he was quick to take advantage of it. Many already empty bottles were lined up against the bartop, while some were in shards on the floor. Every once in a while he shoved an armful to the side to make room for more, and he loathed to think he would need to migrate upstairs sooner or later. If he kept drinking straight through his wares he wouldn’t have any left.

  
He wasn’t concerned about having beverages for the next patrons that would be welcomed into his club. His mind was too distant from such Earthly problems, he could barely grasp the concept of opening Lux later tonight, or even tomorrow. His dark eyes drank in the equally dark sight of his empty establishment, a hollow feeling swallowing up his insides. There was something so final about it, and he felt almost like he was mourning this bloody place as he carefully studied each detail he could see in the darkness.

 

Letting out a sharp breath, Lucifer threw back what remained in his glass, and rose to his feet to stride towards his piano. His limbs felt heavy and his stumbled over his own feet, his metabolism not quite catching up with all of the alcohol in his body just yet. He sat down on his bench and drifted his fingers across the keys with a feather light touch, not hard enough to make a sound, but just enough that he felt their presence against the pads of his fingers. When he withdrew his hand, something caught in his throat. Everything felt so final. His subconscious had come to a decision he was unwilling to acknowledge just yet. The longer he tried to ignore the pressing thoughts in the darkest area of his mind, the harder it was to breathe. He pressed the heels of his palms harshly into his eyes and dug his fingers into his hair to keep himself grounded but the inner pain didn’t subside.

 

He wretched himself away from his instrument, back on trembling legs and one of his hands reached for his phone on instinct. His fingers had brought up Chloe’s contact information without much thought, and he stared at the smiling face on his screen, swallowing thickly. He wanted to call, wanted to hear her reassuring voice. He wanted to tell her about the darkness plaguing his thoughts, the road he seemed to be headed, and he wanted to hear her concern. Wanted to be convinced that even though the world, him included, thought him to be a monster, she had a kinder opinion. They were partners, and more importantly, they were friends.

 

But that was only because...she didn’t know who he was. He thought back to Linda, staring straight ahead of herself, bottom lip trembling in terror as the image of his charred face processed through her mind, and he thought of Chloe being in that position, finally knowing who he was. She would be scared, she would be furious, and she would undoubtedly hate him, and the worst part about it? She had every right.

 

The phone slipped out of his hand and fell onto the floor with a sharp crack. Simultaneously, the dark cloud he has been fighting against finally swallowed up his thoughts entirely, his frantic train of thought crashing to a halt. He was consumed with a sudden numbness as he gingerly stepped over his cellphone and towards the exit of his club.

 

He had a grave to dig up.

 

~

  


Hours later, he found himself in his penthouse, covered in mud but for once he was too wrapped up in his own pain to care about appearances. His attention was centered on the bit of steel he brought with him from Uriel’s grave. Mortals were usually drawn in by the sword’s power, and were driven to be violent against each other for the smallest of grievances. It didn’t have any effect on celestial beings such as Lucifer, but he could still imagine it beckoning to him, whispering in his ear to use it. To destroy the one that has brought him the most pain.

 

The fallen angel rose the blade and traced the edge with his finger, digging in ever so slightly and already generating a generous trickle of blood. He carefully withdrew his injured hand and inspected it, his mind feeling far away from his own body as he watched the blood dribble onto the sleeve of his expensive suit.

 

After a moment, he blinked and snapped out of his trance. Grunting, he repositioned the blade in his grip, using both of his hands to aim it at his abdomen. He did not shake as he gently brought the point down to barely touch him, the blade already cutting through his clothes even with the small amount of pressure.

 

This was the end of his existence. All of the priests would surely be overjoyed to hear that the creator of sins would finally meet his irreversible demise. All of the angels, Lucifer’s brothers and sisters, would likely hold a celestial feast to mark the occasion, all too relieved to be rid of the evil plaguing their happy little family. And his Father? Well.

 

He still didn’t care what his Father thought of him. “I bet you’re all too happy to watch me do this,” Lucifer seethed, glaring up at his ceiling, imagining his smug Father looking back down at him from atop his hideous throne. “You won, you’ll finally be rid of your most disappointing creation. Everyone will blindly follow your word as always.” He forced a smile that felt cold and lifeless even on his own face. “I imagine you’ll twist the story- perhaps the future generations will be under the impression that you were the one to end my reign of terror on the universe. Maybe a more believable tale, hm? Perhaps you sent Michael. You always sent him to deal with me anyhow, I doubt anyone would bat an eye at it.” He screwed his eyes shut, trying to fight away the wave of pain that washed over him. “The world will always think of me as a monster, and that’s fine. It’s the truth. The only thing I regret about leaving is that no one will ever know the full truth-” he scowled. “-that you’re a monster too. But what does that matter to me now?” He looked down at the blade, swallowing. “Nothing will matter shortly.”

 

After that the pressure in his chest amplified, and his grip on the sword tightened. Why did he even try to begin with? What was the bloody point of all of this, fighting to be his own man when everything was set against him since day one? He was an angel, and free will was not in the job description. His Father twisted and pulled his strings like a marionette throughout his entire existence, only for him to end up in this position, the instrument of his own doom merely inches away from piercing his flesh.

 

Was this really all there was to him? Was this the point of his creation? His Father purposely made him to question things, to desire, yet he was thrown out of his own home for actively using the traits he was designed with. And from that point on, humanity pinned the blame of all of the misdeeds on him, while his brothers and sisters up in high heaven labelled him as evil and turned their backs on him for all of eternity. And now, here he was, moments away from permanent death, and he could guarantee his death would be twisted and used to show the humans more lies about Father’s ‘undying love’ for them what he would do to protect them. Lucifer was created for the sole purpose for what, making his Father look good? It would almost be humorous if Lucifer wasn’t on the tail end of the joke. Instead, the realization that his whole life had been nothing more but a convenience for his Father….

 

His emotional turmoil overcame him, and the sword in his grasp caught ablaze.

 

Choking on the lump in his throat, Lucifer watched the flames, seconds away from bursting into manic laughter. This- this was _his_ sword. Instead of destroying it, his Father simply hid it in plain sight, knowing very well that it would eventually be the very tool Lucifer would use to destroy himself. Well if that wasn’t the greatest middle finger Lucifer has ever seen.

 

“Right back at you, Dad,” Lucifer spat, and the flames died down. Well, that would be his cue to hurry it up, he decided, glancing back at the ceiling again. His Father’s way of mocking him on his way out. Telling him to hurry up and scaddaddle. If Lucifer was capable of offing himself via skyscraper, he imagines his Father would say ‘do a flip!’ while he was preparing to jump.

 

“Before I go…” Lucifer closed his eyes, and after a moment’s hesitation, directed a prayer to all of his siblings. _“I’m aware you all hate me, but it would be rude of me to leave without a goodbye.”_ He paused. _“Which is why you’re clearly not getting one.”_

 

And with that, his eyes snapped open and he sucked in a harsh breath as he jerked his hands towards his body, his sword easily slicing through his flesh. He was immediately met with total agony rippling throughout his entire being, and he couldn’t help the cry of pain that tore through his throat as the world went sideways and he crumpled on his floor. He could already feel the stickiness of his own blood soaking through his shirt, and slowly pooling around him as he laid in a heap. The world shifted and changed, flashes of hell appearing in his vision, then returning back to Earth. Once or twice, between flashes, he could’ve sworn he saw a glimpse of the Silver City, but he immediately rejected the idea.

 

The rapid changing of realms eventually ended, and Lucifer remained gazing dizzily up at his penthouse ceiling, thinking he could almost feel his celestial energy seeping right out of him as he bled out. He felt a small pang of regret in his chest, but he buried it away, firmly telling himself that this is what he and the rest of the world wanted. What everyone needed. The universe would be a better off place without him corrupting it, and it wasn’t like he had a place here anyways. No one wanted him. They made that perfectly clear.

 

His eyes fluttered closed and he tried to relax as the pull of unconsciousness tugged him. He would never open his eyes again, once he fell asleep. He wondered if he would feel the exact moment he would cease, if it would hurt. Maybe he would end up in a void, somewhere outside of his father’s control. Maybe Uriel would be there. The thought made him smile, but he didn’t dare let himself hope.

 

The sound of the elevator reaching his floor snapped him out of those reassuring thoughts anyways. “Luci?” Someone called, and he cracked his eyes open, fleetingly feeling a bubble of panic. No one was supposed to come, no one was supposed to watch him die.

 

But his brother appeared in his blurry line of vision anyways, quickly darting to his side and grabbing ahold of the blade, pulling it out with a disgusting squelching noise. The feeling of it sliding through his flesh again caused Lucifer to gasp in pain, his hands instinctively grasping hard at whatever was closest to him, which just so happened to be Amenadiel’s arm. “Lucifer, what happened, who attacked you?” He demanded as he yanked off his own hideous hoodie, throwing it onto Lucifer’s wound and pressing down on it fiercely. Lucifer dug his fingers in harder as the pain doubled, his vision momentarily blacking out. He was disappointed when it cleared up again. “Luci, hang on, I can-” Amenadiel refused to meet his gaze, looking around the room almost helplessly, but he was always too stubborn to admit defeat. “I’ll… call an ambulance.”

 

Lucifer snorted- surely his brother knew how pointless it would be to ask humans for help in this sort of situation- but his brother ignored him and whipped out a cellphone, speedily dialling the three numbers and holding the phone up to his ear. Lucifer was almost impressed, since when did Amenadiel know what 991 was? He truly was adapting to life on Earth, who knew?

 

“My brother has been attacked,” Amenadiel suddenly said very loudly into the phone. “He’s been stabbed. Yes, I took the knife out.” He paused, his eyes flickering over to the blade, then at Lucifer. He looked regretful. “We’re at his club, Lux. Please hurry,” he pressed the end call button and all but threw his phone away from him, returning both hands to Lucifer’s bleeding stomach. “They’re on their way. Hang on, Luci.”

 

“Bloody hell,” Lucifer mumbled, weakly pushing against Amenadiel’s hands, unsuccessfully trying to force him away and allow him to die in peace. But that was far too much to ask for, apparently, since his older brother only made a disagreeing noise and pressed down even harder.

 

“Luci, tell me who did this.” His brother’s voice was harsh, he was obviously struggling to control his emotions. What emotion, Lucifer wasn’t sure. Amenadiel was always an odd one, caring about things that wouldn’t have ever crossed Lucifer’s mind to begin with. Perhaps this was part of his fear of humanity being exposed to too much divinity.

 

Well, that fear could easily be taken care of. “Ever consider-” And suddenly his voice refused to work with him, and his body locked up, a jolt of pain travelling through his stomach to the rest of his body. His mouth opened in a silent shout, and the world went black momentarily. For a moment, he thought that was it, he was on his way to oblivion. But to his disappointment, the darkness cleared and he was thrown back into reality again.

 

Amenadiel was shaking his shoulders, repeating his name like a mantra. “Lucifer, come on. Stay with me. Lucifer, keep your eyes open, just stay awake-” He stopped his pathetic babbling as soon as his brother groaned in annoyance. He let go of his shoulders immediately, returning back to putting pressure on the wound. “Luci, tell me who did this.”

 

“I did,” Lucifer gasped out, voice raspy. His brother stiffened and started to reply, but Lucifer couldn’t hear him anymore. His vision was blurring, blacking out around the edges, and he knew this was what he was waiting for. “Did you- I did you all a favor,” he said with a weak laugh, letting his eyes close. “You’re...welcome…”

 

As the world slipped away, he swore he heard his brother scream something in a desperate prayer to the heavens, but the exact words were lost to him. Soon, everything was lost to him and all that was left was an inky blackness that swallowed him whole.

**Author's Note:**

> But wait, there's more!
> 
> The end is not the end is not the end is not the end-
> 
> Okay what I'm saying here is that this is a multi chapter story. So stay tuned for more!


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